Allowing Students to Inspire Your Lessons is a GREAT Thing.
One of my favorite feelings in the world occurs when I learn
something from my students. Not only do I enjoy learning, but it shows that
they are thinking, making connections between my course and their lives, and
that they feel comfortable sharing their knowledge.
Recently, my students read “A Dog for Rock,” a short story
by Mauro Senesi. As we discussed the story and its themes in class, one of my
students mentioned that the story reminded her of a Simon and Garfunkel song
titled “I am a Rock.” The word “rock” aside, I asked Katie how the story and
song connected in her mind, and she proceeded to share her insight about the
song’s meaning. It didn’t take long for her to inspire me to listen to the song
as soon as possible. Though I had been a fan of the album that featured the song
for decades, that particular song had escaped my attention until Katie brought
it into my life. During my conference period, I pulled up the song on YouTube
and listened to the singer-songwriters croon about isolation and pain. Katie
was right; the song not only aligned with many of the ideas we were discussing
from the short story, but it was poetry – just after I had been telling the
students that poetry isn’t some foreign thing only to be picked apart in
English class, but it is all around them – in the music they enjoy. I
immediately changed the next day’s lesson plan.
When students arrived the following day, they picked up a
copy of the lyrics to “I am a Rock,” glued it into their Reader/Writer Notebooks,
and listened to the song. After some discussion, I asked them to use the
lyrics/poetry as both model and inspiration for their own piece. Students were
allowed to stay as close to or stray from the original form as much as they
desired. I wrote along with them under the document camera.
In true workshop practice, they saw me struggle to find the
exact words I was looking for, cross out lines I didn’t like to replace them
with new ones, and allow myself to be vulnerable by sharing past experiences
and emotions.
When everyone finished writing, I read my poem to help
reinforce the safe atmosphere. Then I asked for volunteers to read from the
Author’s Chair. Slowly but surely, students began to share their versions of “I
am a Rock.” Some kept the refrain, while others changed it completely, but in
each case, students shared a personal piece that meant something to them. In
doing so, they touched others. They felt ownership in their learning and
writing, and I felt overjoyed and proud of what they had accomplished – all
because I listened to a student with wisdom to share.
Below are both the original lyrics to “I am a Rock” and my
poem. I feel a disclaimer of sorts is necessary, for my poem seems depressing
and somewhat juvenile. I explained to students that when reading the song
lyrics for inspiration, I remembered a time when I felt that level of
loneliness and despair, and that I immediately recalled the summer before my 8th
grade year, when I was alone in my room almost 24 hours per day for 3 months.
We laughed about all the ways that middle school can be difficult, and I
reassured them that I am happy now, so they needn’t worry. Originally, mine
followed the form very closely. Each stanza ended with the refrain, “I am a
rock/ I am an island.” As happened with many of my students, I found that those
lines didn’t fit my writing style and, thus, changed them. So, with that in
mind, here’s a poem from my inner-eighth-grader:
“I am a Rock” by Paul Simon
A winter's day
In a deep and dark December I am alone Gazing from my window To the streets below On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow
I am a rock
I am an island
I've built walls
A fortress steep and mighty That none may penetrate I have no need of friendship Friendship causes pain It's laughter and it's loving I disdain,
I am a rock
I am an island
Don't talk of love
Well I've heard the word before It's sleeping in my memory I won't disturb the slumber Of feelings that have died If I never loved, I never would have cried
I am a rock
I am an island
I have my books
And my poetry to protect me I am shielded in my armor Hiding in my room Safe within my womb I touch no one, and no one touches me
I am a rock
I am an island
And a rock feels no pain
And an island never cries |
My modelled piece (untitled): A summer’s day On a hot and humid afternoon I am alone Sitting in my room Imprisoned by four walls In this, the sanctuary from the desert of my life I am melting, though I am too little in the sun. I decorate the walls That keep the people out and the feelings in With posters of Marilyn, River Phoenix, and The Cure With drawings that depict how I see the world. I have no need of friends, siblings, or my mom Relationships cause pain It’s cliques and duplicitous people I disdain I am art, imitating life, imitating art. Cries of pain escape through my pencil Graphite tears Don’t ignore my smudges of saline, heartache, and lead And tell me that you love me. Your words play in my mind, on repeat, Like my favorite songs on the radio But they won’t change the fact that you abandoned me When I needed you most. So I’ll stay sheltered from your tempestuous care After all, I can’t miss what I’ve never had I am an orphan whose mother is in the next room. I have my alternative music, my existential poetry, and my drawings (carefully rendered with a cheap #2 pencil) To protect me. I am shielded by these friends Hiding in my room Safe within my tomb Yet in plain sight for anyone who’s looking. John Donne was wrong; I am an island. Alone, yes. But I rise, strong, from a sea of tears, And I watch the sun rise on the horizon. |
You can see some of the many edits I made in my writing notebook. |
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